


Crave

by glaivenoct



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/pseuds/glaivenoct
Summary: Noctis, his desire for affection, and the ways Nyx fulfills it.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	Crave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



> Shameless fluff for Jazz, inspired and derived from the 91348u74 conversations we've had about these life ruiners <3

There are days Noctis craves affection.

He tries being subtle about it. Some days he refrains from wriggling free of Gladio’s brotherly goading headlocks. Doesn’t shrug off the strong hand that ruffles his hair in commendation for a job well done in training. Others, Noct purposely bumps shoulders with Prompto on their walks through the city. Elbows and shoves him just enough to get Prompto to attempt to do it back, only for Noct to run off laughing before he can. Then there are times he lets his palm linger over the back of Ignis’ hand long enough to get his attention so he can smile at him. Times he speaks up just to keep Ignis from walking away, his reassuring hand resting on Noctis’ shoulder a little longer.

Sometimes he feels like sharing a full hug with his father rather than a side one after their dinners. Nothing quite lights Noct’s heart with content like the welcoming fold of his dad’s arms around his back; feeling his dad smile against his cheek while he allows himself to tuck his face against a broad shoulder for a moment. Just a moment. 

Long enough for the soft “Goodnight, my boy,” to reach his ears.

There are days Noct questions if he’s being childish. Questions if he would be scoffed at for actively seeking affection the way he does. Mocked for being needy. When Noct lets himself think too much, he wonders if it’s selfish of him. If it means he’s not appreciative enough of the ways his loved ones show him they care about him.

They care about him. He knows they do. He shouldn’t need the physicality to believe it.

He doesn’t. Yet he still _craves it_.

It’s easier when he’s a kid, because no one questions a little prince scurrying off to his father’s chambers on dark and stormy nights. Sneaking beneath the covers to snuggle against his side, clinging tighter with every crack of thunder outside the water pelted windows.

No one questions the little prince and his young advisor holding hands as they scamper away to hunt down snacks in the kitchens before exploring the citadel gardens.

One does not think twice of a little prince happily perched atop the ever stoic marshal’s shoulders, leaning in to whisper secrets and stories that were nodded along to.

One doesn’t think to question a little prince seeking different forms of affection.

Though Noctis isn’t so little anymore.

Affection feels harder to ask for as Noct grows into his teens, and in turn, grows more reclusive. While his honed facade of aloofness keeps his heart safe in some aspects, it leaves him susceptible to that ache yearning beneath the surface. As the reality of his title looms over him like a perpetual black cloud, there are days Noctis wants to sink into someone’s arms until he felt ready to stand again. 

But the desire feels unrealistic in itself. Unfavorable of a Prince. He needs to grow up. 

Craving affection doesn’t go away when he does.

It worries him when he meets Nyx Ulric. One of the most esteemed members of his father’s kingsglaive. The coined “Hero” with a square jaw and rugged grin. It takes much more effort than Noct anticipates to _not_ loathe himself when he realizes he’s developing a big, fat crush on the man, or how interested he is in Nyx’s touch. Whether it’s the congratulatory pat on the back during training, the clasp of his hand as he helps pull Noct up from the dirt, the gentle ushering of a palm against his back as they leave the barracks.

“You’re doing great, Highness.” Nyx says to him one day as he helps hoist him from the training pit. “Keep it up and you might outwarp me in no time.”

“Think you’ll finally start calling me Noct when I do?” Noct proposes with a slight smile, betraying the pounding of his heart in his chest. He desperately wants to put formalities as far from his interactions with Nyx as possible, but he fears Nyx doesn’t.

He fears a little more when Nyx blinks at him like he’s unsure what to say.

“It’s okay to call me that.” He proceeds to say and rub the back of his neck. “I… like it a lot better than Highness.”

It’s going south. It’s going south and Noct doesn’t know what else to do than stare at the floor. 

“If you say so, Noct.” There’s an arm around his shoulder, tugging him close to Nyx’s warm side. Noct makes a surprised noise, but then looks at Nyx with a smile.

He doesn’t shy away from the way Nyx jostles him as they walk.

Sweeping formalities under the rug opens up other avenues in their relationship. Nicknames, for one. A type of affection Noct doesn’t realize he wants more of until Nyx starts calling him “little king” and “little star”. He relishes in each name. Every touch that feels more personable the more days they spend together. Over time, those touches start to linger; hands on shoulders. One squeezing the other’s as they aid them in standing back up after a spar. Waiting _a few extra seconds_ before they let go.

“Do you like coffee?” Nyx asks him one day when Noct’s climbing out of the pit and brushing the dust off his pants.

“Hard not to, if you ask me,” Noctis manages to answer despite the sudden leap of his heart.

“What do you say we grab a cup tomorrow? My treat.”

“Throw in some muffins and I’m there. Those’ll be my treat.”

Nyx smiles.

One cup of coffee turns into two. Two turns into three. Three turns into dinner, and after Nyx has walked him home, Noctis spends the night asking himself if he’s imagining this, or if there’s a legitimate possibility that Nyx _likes him back_.

( _He asked you to dinner after three coffee dates._ He reads in Luna’s latest correspondence to him a few days later. _I assume that means he does, Noctis._ )

They’re more than a few dates in when it happens; After Noctis has boldly claimed a kiss to a scruffy cheek and sent Nyx home speechless and dazed. After he’s decided not to stop Nyx’s slow incline towards him, bringing their lips together in their first true kiss. After Noctis grows comfortable enough to indicate he’s open to holding hands beneath restaurant tables, down the secluded back streets and shortcuts of a congested city, in the comfort of their rendezvous spaces scattered throughout the citadel.

After Noctis can no longer deny he’s helplessly drawn to Nyx’s touch.

Movie night. In the preferred cozines of Nyx’s apartment with cartons of Galahdian take-out splayed on the small table in front of them. They start with a comedy, the two armchairs Nyx owns pushed together so they can sit relatively close while they dig into their food. It’s once they’ve both finished eating that Noct can feel himself growing anxious, because Nyx is starting to slouch and adjust himself for a more comfortable position. Noctis does the same, more or less leaning against Nyx’s chair.

More or less wishing he could inch just _a little closer_.

But he thinks about the possibility of turning Nyx off. Sure, they’ve kissed and held hands, but is this going to paint him as clingy? He fears Nyx’s rejection so much more than he wishes to take things just a step further.

“You can come closer.”

Noctis startles. “What?”

“You don’t have to, but, pretty sure you could squeeze up here if you wanted.”

Nyx, like he read Noctis’ mind, scoots over to make space for him on the chair, a welcoming smile upon his lips. Noctis tries not to look as astonished as he feels. Tries to refrain from practically leaping over onto the next couch and collapse in ecstatic relief. His lips twitch into a smile of his own.

He enjoys it more than he cares to admit - easing his weight against Nyx’s side. Feeling Nyx’s arm coming around his shoulder, squeezing him close like he’s encouraging him to relax. As if he’s reading his mind again, telling him not to be afraid. So Noct lets himself go slack and rest his head against Nyx’s shoulder. He enjoys the gentle tremors of their mutual laughter more than he enjoys the jokes in the movie.

He doesn’t intend to stay the night, but it’s so easy to start nodding off halfway through the second movie. Nyx still has his arm around him. He’s still warm in the most pleasant way.

He wakes to the same warmth, and a steady thumping against his cheek that could lull him straight back to sleep before he can open his eyes. There’s a weight secured around his back, one that lightens when Noct stirs beneath it.

Nyx is sound asleep when Noctis can finally open his eyes. They’re _in Nyx’s bed_ , snuggled close beneath thin covers. He doesn’t remember getting up and moving to the bed last night, but he doesn’t care. Not with the morning sun peeking through the bars of the window, goldening Nyx’s already bronze complexion. Noct props his chin on Nyx’s chest, exhaling through his nose.

He’s not quite sure they’ve even hugged before, but this… this is nice. This feels as natural as breathing. As inviting as the plush sheets of his own bed. The longer he spends watching those slack features, he can’t stop the grin that splits across his face until his cheeks hurt. He buries that grin against Nyx’s shirt, wriggles beneath that strong arm so he can curl against him. Nyx remains still like some sort of sleeping god, and Noct makes the softest noise once he’s comfortable.

This is everything he’s craved and more.

Noct finds himself less intimidated to seek Nyx’s touch after that. The closer they grow, the less he fears his desires of affection. Because the more they learn about each other, Noctis discovers one thing about Nyx rather quickly: He’s very affectionate.

It’s only ever behind closed doors or some hidden alcove no one else knows about. It’s only after Nyx tests the waters, waiting for any signal or verbal confirmation that Noctis wants him to back off.

But Noct has no protests to Nyx’s hugs. They’re warm and safe like his father’s, but in a different way. He likes when Nyx surprises him from behind, arms sliding around his waist, a kiss pecked to his cheek with something cheesy muttered in his ear. He loves it when Nyx pulls him close and scoops him off the floor like a knight in shining armor, making him laugh whenever he decides to spin him around and crash into the couch cushions together. He has yet to find words for the strong arms that envelop him when he’s having a bad day. The strong arms that shield him from the weight of his crown just a little bit longer. The arms Noct sinks into until he feels ready to stand again.

Noct has no protests to how Nyx takes to playing with his hair on those nights. It turns into an absent-minded thing; usually when they’re cuddling or watching movies. The slow massage of Nyx’s fingers against his scalp never fails to make him sleepy, or - according to Nyx - tap into his “cat-like” tendencies.

“Like that, kitten?” Nyx asks one night when Noct’s halfway to drifting.

Though he’s conscious enough to take note of the nickname. Kitten. That’s a new one, and Noctis doesn’t want to admit how much he already likes it. But Nyx’s fingers are still in his hair and it’s difficult to deny anything when he feels so relaxed and content.

“Not a kitten,” he manages, eyes half closed.

“Just purring like one, huh?”

“Hm?” Is that what he’s been doing? “No… shut up.”

Nyx chuckles. Noctis doesn’t tell him to shut up the next time he calls him kitten.

He can’t get enough of it, or any of the other nicknames, on those wonderfully intimate nights where Nyx attaches soft praises to each one beneath the covers. They’re spoken like silent prayers against his skin, making him shiver and blush. Noct wonders somewhere distantly in his blissed out brain if he’s dreaming, because it’s too easy to get lost in Nyx’s savored touches that could turn him to gold. Every time Nyx steals his breath with a kiss, buries his face into his neck, clasps his hand like it’s all he has left to hold onto, and tells him how beautiful he is, Noctis is certain he’s floated off to some other plane entirely.

Some place where the only thing that matters is Nyx.

The feeling follows him into the afterglow of the morning when Nyx wakes him with indulgent kisses against his ear and down his neck. Noctis smiles before he even opens his eye, biting back a laugh when he feels the intentional tickle of Nyx’s scruff. Though he’s never been one to resist the attack for long. He grasps the arm Nyx has slung around his waist, muffling a fit of laughs into his pillow. He can feel Nyx laughing against his skin, which tickles him even more. Though as much as he squirms in Nyx’s fairly light embrace, Noctis doesn’t try to escape him.

There’s nowhere else on Eos he’d rather be than Nyx’s arms. Scruffy torment and all.

Of all the things about Nyx that toss Noct into a state of utter awe and admiration, his capacity for love is at the top of the list. Affection is never difficult or scary to ask for around him. Most of the time, Nyx gives it out of his own incentive. Out of his instinct to be a protector without treating Noctis like he’s made of glass. There are times he feels this intrinsic link between the both of them, and it makes him question if it’s all too good to be true or how he came to be this lucky.

But those questions are quickly forgotten whenever Nyx wraps his arms around him, whenever his lips touch his skin, and whenever his cheesy jokes and sweet nothings reach his ears.

There are days Noctis craves affection, and not one of them goes by without Nyx convincing him he deserves it.


End file.
